


It's fine, all of the time

by MamaWouldBeSoProud



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Drug Use, Fingering, From Sex to Love, M/M, METRIC TONS OF ANGST!, Rimming, Smut, So much smut, Taylor is A Mess™, Yup this is porn, hatesex but not really, oh yeah and angst, seriously this is straight up porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaWouldBeSoProud/pseuds/MamaWouldBeSoProud
Summary: Contrary to what a lot of people believe, Taylor Hall is not a stupid man. But he does have a massive boner for his rookie. And that might actually be a sign, that he is really fucking stupid after all.





	It's fine, all of the time

**Author's Note:**

> If you found this by googling yourself or someone you know, turn around now and rinse your eyes with acid. Seriously, you do NOT want to continue reading this. It's all made up, nothing of this happened, it's a work of fiction and nothing else! You've been warned!
> 
> The age of consent in Switzerland is 18. Nico is 18 in this story, and he repeatedly has very enthusiastic and consensual sex with a 26yo. If you're not cool with that, this story is not for you. There is also a character that uses prescription drugs and alcohol to get high. If that triggers you in an uncool way, this story is not for you.
> 
> I experimented with spacing while writing this, to make the dialogue easier to read. It's the first time I did this and I'm pretty sure I fucked up. Very sorry about that! Also, none of the dates for any of the games in the story is correct. Mostly because I was too lazy to check, but also because it's my story and I can do whatever the fuck I want.
> 
> Title from "Fuck the pain away" by Peaches. (Which is an excellent hatesex song that should get a lot more recognition than it currently does.)
> 
> Thanks goes - as always - to the amazing viennajones who introduced me to this pairing. Because having approximately 2764378 OTPs already wasn't enough. Thank you, my dear! It's hell. I love it.

Contrary to what a lot of people believe, Taylor Hall is not a stupid man. He might be careless, yes. Irresponsible sometimes, yes. He can’t keep a houseplant alive for more than two weeks and hasn’t read a proper book in years, yes and yes. But he is  _ not _ stupid.

 

Taylor reminds himself of that every day. Every day when he is on the ice or in the locker room or lying in bed at night. Every time he thinks of the water droplets running down Nico Hischier’s stupid chest when he steps out of the shower and back into the locker room. Every time he thinks about something Nico said or the way Nico’s eyes crinkled up when he was laughing about one of Taylor’s dirty jokes. 

 

Because Taylor knows himself and Taylor is not stupid. But he does have a  _ massive _ boner for his rookie. And that might actually be a sign, that he is really fucking stupid after all.

 

*

 

Taylor remembers draft day 2017. He had been back home in Calgary when the first round picks were announced. And he had kinda expected Nolan Patrick to go first, but then it was that Swiss kid with the vaguely French sounding last name and those  _ outrageous _ eyebrows that put on the Devils jersey. Ebs had sent him a text saying “Another cute first pick for you, eh?” and Taylor had ignored it. He has gotten really good at ignoring things.

 

Summer came and went, Taylor went to warm places with white beaches and turquoise water, where nobody knew his name and he could take home the prettiest guys and fuck them into his comfy hotel bed without it raising any questions. He got his dick sucked on a fucking yacht for crying out loud. It was a pretty baller vacation all in all.

 

Taylor got back to New Jersey and training camp started. Nico was of course the center of media attention, having all cameras on him, every microphone of the metropolitan area shoved in his face and droves of hardcore fans in Hischier jerseys attending every open practice. Greeney had gone all “protective captain” for the first few days, but after all he had other things to do and in the end he asked Taylor to keep an eye out for Hisch. 

“You know what the media madness is like,” he had said. And, oh, Taylor knew so, so well. 

 

That had been the start.

 

*

 

“Can we get Froyo?” was the first question Nico ever asked him. They had just finished the last practice of the day - a brutal shift in the weight room - and Taylor had offered to take Nico home. The kid still didn’t have a driver’s license and ubering everywhere was probably getting annoying at some point. 

“Froyo?” Taylor replied with raised eyebrows. Nico had just smiled his shy little smile and nodded. 

“We don’t have it in Switzerland, but Henny took me a couple of days ago and it was really good!” 

 

Taylor didn’t have it in him to tell Nico that he wasn’t 12 years old and that Nico could get fucking Froyo on his own time. So he took him to get Froyo. Nico put a cup together for him, getting him caramel sauce and berries and chocolate chips and peanut butter - all ordered in his halting, funny English. He even paid for it and handed Taylor the cup like it was the best present anyone could possibly receive. Taylor ate it, even though it tasted like a toddler’s birthday party. 

 

*

 

So the season started and Taylor was still looking out for the rookie. Mostly on the ice, because off-ice he was done with playing Mary Poppins. He had done _that_ before and it hadn’t ended well. Also, everyone with eyes could see how much Taylor was  _ not _ the responsible adult a struggling rookie should be looking for. Most of the time, he couldn’t get his shit together himself. Also, he was hungover quite regularly. 

 

Not that he had a drinking problem. But being a closeted gay player in the most no-homo-sports-league in the world was much easier when you were drunk for most of it. Also making out with pretty blonde girls to maintain your “player” status came a lot easier when you had a buzz. So Taylor chugged a couple of beers every time they went out and sometimes smoked a blunt or popped some Vicodin to take the edge off. And then he went home alone and jerked off to various porn clips. At some point he realized all the guys in his favorite videos had perfect eyebrows and floppy brown hair. Taylor chose to ignore it. 

 

Nico didn’t seem to mind Taylor's cold shoulder that much though. He was a happy little kid, getting along with everyone and improving his language skills every day. After a while, he threw so many “eh”s into his sentences, you’d think he’d been raised in the middle of rural Saskatchewan or something. 

 

*

 

It takes a wet dream - a fucking wet dream! Like in some sort of YA novel! - for Taylor to realize the mental boner he has for Nico. He wakes up sweating and panting and with jizz in his boxers, sticking the fabric to his overheated skin. In his dream, Nico had gone on his knees in front of him, his lips curved up in a teasing little smirk and Taylor’s shaking hands gripping the stupid, floppy, brown hair on Nico’s head, pulling him in. His mouth had looked indecently good stretched around Taylor’s cock and Taylor had babbled obscenities and sappy endearments when Nico had started to suck and squirm and moan around Taylor’s cock. 

 

Taylor fumbles blindly for his phone on the nightstand and squints at the bright screen. It’s 6:15 am. Fuck his life, seriously. Groaning, he gets up to stumble to the bathroom to take a piss and a hot, long shower. After that he feels halfway human and almost ready to choke down some breakfast and drive himself to the rink. His “breakfast” ends up being stale Honey Nut Cheerios and milk that is four days past its expiration date. Because Taylor is a fucking grown-up and also fuck. his. life.

 

And so now, here he is. Taylor fucking Hall, 26 years old, first round draft pick, traded by Edmonton, the franchise everyone thought he would save, washed up in New Jersey of all places and in danger of popping a boner every time his 18 year old rookie so much as smiles at him. Yep, he is a winner all right. 

 

*

 

“How long is it to Dallas?” Nico asks, when they are getting on the plane to play their away game against the Stars. 

“Long enough to take a nice long nap,” Taylor grumbles back. They are almost two months into the season and things are going surprisingly well. Sure, they lose some easy games, but they also win more than they lose and the team clicks in a way Taylor hasn’t experienced in many years. Henny being traded sucked for sure, but the rest of the team is still great and all of them are playing up to their potentials. The coaches are happy with them.

 

Still, it’s fuck o’clock in the evening, they just finished playing the Rangers and now they have to get on a plane to fucking Dallas to play the Stars. Taylor would rather be at home right now, drinking a couple of beers on his couch and then either jerk off in bed or go to town on that fleshlight-thingy he got for his shower. He is a deprived motherfucker, but at least he owns it.

 

“I’ve never been to Dallas before!” Nico says, when he plops into the seat right next to Taylor’s. Taylor blinks. Usually Nico sits with Mirco or some of the other Euro-kids on the plane. And everybody -  _ everybody _ ! - knows that Taylor sits alone because he likes to stretch out and sleep. 

“I’ve actually never been to Texas,” Nico rambles on. “Is it really hot there? And are people really wearing Cowboy hats?” he asks with his usual beaming smile and a little breathless laugh. 

“No.” Taylor says and puts his headphones on. 

 

*

 

They lose to Dallas, because of course they do. Just when things had started to look the fuck up. And Nico catches Taylor looking a couple of times in the locker room. Taylor is man enough not to blush when it happens, but he keeps his head down after a while and gets dressed as quickly as possible.

 

They drive back to the hotel in silence, everybody wrung out and gutted by that loss in overtime. Taylor thinks longingly about his minibar and about the cold cans of lager in there. Maybe tonight is the right time for the blunt he smuggled in his backpack as well. He’ll go to the roof, smoke it and then enjoy the solitude of his single room. 

 

He takes off his suit the second he gets into the door and puts on some well-worn sweatpants. He’s free balling it for good measure. No need to stay in formal wear, when he’s all alone. Taylor is about to open the tiny fridge under the tv, when there is a knock on the door. Cursing silently, he goes to answer. It’s Nico.  _ Great _ .

 

“Hey, what are you up to?” Nico asks with a tiny wave and a smile, while he scoots in past Taylor and plops down on his bed. 

“Uh,” Taylor answers. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Nico says already reaching for the remote. “I think Transformers is on.” 

Taylor closes his mouth, which he realizes belatedly is hanging open. He also closes the door, which he is still holding. It clicks shut and Taylor looks back at Nico. 

 

Nico is smiling at him, but it’s actually more like a tiny smirk. Or Taylor would identify it as a smirk, if Nico possessed even the slightest amount of sass. Which he _doesn’t_. He’s just a goofy, unnaturally happy little kid. One that is currently stretched out languidly on Taylor’s hotel bed in sweatpants and a red shirt with a white cross on it. Switzerland’s flag. Taylor mentally rolls his eyes.

 

“I actually had plans,” he finally grumps and goes back to the fridge. Nico laughs. 

“Really? Were you going to go out and party or something?” 

Taylor tosses him a can of Heineken and Nico catches it easily. 

“Nope. I  _ planned _ to be alone tonight.” Taylor says and puts extra emphasis on the word “alone”. 

Nico grins and says “Pssh. Being alone is boring.” 

Taylor opens his beer and takes a few sips. The kid is definitely getting too relaxed around him. In his day there was a certain sort of respect for the older players. Or, well, “respect” is kind of a strong word, but still. 

 

He flops down next to Nico on the bed and puts one hand out for the remote. 

“Oh yeah? Boring?” he asks. “And you were planning on doing  _ what _ exactly, to brighten up my oh so boring night?” 

Nico grins, and now  _ that _ definitely is a little smirk on his face. He doesn’t hand Taylor the remote. Instead he puts it on the nightstand, along with his beer. And then - in a move that would be seriously smooth if anybody else did it - he rolls back, swings a leg over Taylor’s lap and sits up, straddling him effectively. 

“I have some ideas,” he says in a deep voice. 

What the  _ hell _ is happening here? Taylor is staring up at him, just opening his mouth to ask Nico what the fuck he thinks he’s doing, when Nico bends down and puts his mouth directly on Taylor’s lips. Oh.  _ Oh _ . 

 

It’s not the best kiss Taylor has ever gotten, because Nico is a bit hectic and his lips are chapped, but he wiggles around in Taylor’s lap and his tongue is doing this thing in Taylor’s mouth and - oh  _ God _ , he uses his teeth to nibble at Taylor’s lower lip. With a growl, Taylor rears up, fumblingly and blindly setting his own beer can on the other bedside table and then grabbing Nico’s hips very hard. Nico puts his arms around Taylor’s neck in response. And maybe Taylor was wrong. Maybe this kiss _is_ actually Top 5 material. Top 3 at the most. Holy  _ shit _ , that kid knows how to use his tongue. 

 

Eventually they do have to stop kissing to breathe for a second. Nico has his eyes closed, resting his forehead to Taylor’s, his breath coming in short rasps. When he shifts on Taylor’s lap, he can feel how hard Nico is. Fucking hell. Nico is hard. For  _ him _ . Fuck fuck  _ fuck _ .

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Taylor asks him in a hushed voice. 

“You were looking a lot,” Nico mumbles back, which  _ what _ ?

“What?” Taylor asks and pushes Nico back slightly so he can look at him. Nico reluctantly opens his eyes.

“You were staring at me, when I was naked in the locker room. So I thought I’d take a chance and see if you meant anything by that.” Nico says. Casually. Like that’s a normal thing to say for anybody. 

Taylor just blinks at him. 

Nico grins a bit and places a small kiss on the corner of Taylor’s mouth. “Seems like you did. So I’m gonna take off my pants now.” And he scrambles off Taylor and pulls his sweats down.

 

Jesus  _ fuck _ , Nico is freeballing it too. 

 

Taylor’s mouth feels like somebody covered it in corduroy. There is just not a single atom of spit left. Because Nico fucking Hischier is standing right in front of his hotel bed, stepping out of his sweatpants, which are currently pooled around his feet and simultaneously pulls his red shirt over his head. All the blood in Taylor’s system is rushing to his dick, which feels like it will explode at every second. Nico is all defined muscle, lean limbs and smooth skin that is somehow still tan, even though it’s December. How the  _ what _ ?!

 

Nico drops his shirt and looks up at Taylor again, the look in his eyes a little unsure, and bites his lower lip. Again - from anybody else this move would be hella smooth. But Nico is not- He’s not  _ smooth _ . Right? Or is he? 

“When the hell did you get this cocky?” Taylor says. He means it to sound challenging, but his voice sounds rather befuddled instead. Also he is very out of breath. He is just so fucking confused right now. 

Nico grins a little, still looking a bit spooked by his own bravery - which is the only thing that keeps Taylor from freaking out completely. 

“Maybe I’ve always been like this?” he says and climbs back onto Taylor. 

 

He leans in for another kiss and his fingers pull up Taylor’s shirt impatiently. 

“Can you get naked too, please?” he asks in the same way someone might ask to pass the salt. 

Taylor’s brain is rebooting. He needs to put a stop to this, he thinks hazily. He tries to wrench his focus away from Nico’s tongue now drawing patterns on his neck and pushes him away again.

“Nico,” he says in what he hopes is his “serious grown-up voice”. 

 

“Nico, look, I don’t think-”

“Really?” Nico interrupts him in an exasperated tone. “Are you seriously giving me the speech right now?”

“Yes,” Taylor answers and tries to sit up some more. “Look, I’ve fooled around with teammates before and it hasn’t ended well, okay?”

Nico slides off him and flops on his back next to Taylor. His dick is hard and flushed and it looks a bit sticky. Taylor swallows hard.

 

“Feelings got hurt,” Taylor plows on. “And you are so fucking young and-”

“I’m 18!” Nico huffs, which he probably thinks is a valid argument, but it’s really not. Really,  _ really _ not.

“Yes, and I’m 26 and probably should act like a functioning adult here,” Taylor shoots back. “Someone has to. What we have on the team right now is too good to mess up.”

“Oh my God,” Nico groans and looks up at Taylor again. “Can you relax? You think I’m hot and I think you’re hot. I want to have sex with you and you-” Nico gestures to Taylor’s dick, which is still hard and tenting his sweats slightly, “also want to have sex with me. Where’s the fucking problem?”

 

“It’s never that easy,” Taylor says. “I’ve been there before. People got hurt and-”

“If I promise you to  _ not _ fall in love with you, can I please suck your dick?” Nico interjects. 

Taylor just gapes. Nico sounds like a petulant teenager - which he technically is, Taylor reminds himself - and it’s so fucking working for him. Oh wow, he’s a  _ horrible _ person. 

“This- this is  _ so _ not the point,” Taylor stutters a little helplessly, but it’s like Nico is a shark and Taylor has just put a drop of blood in the water. Nico’s grin is back and in a second he crawls up to Taylor and slides in between his legs. He knows he has won. And all Taylor can do is let his head fall back on the pillow when Nico pulls down his pants and boxers and Nico’s mouth clutches wetly around his cock.

 

*

 

Taylor doesn’t mean to brag, but he has gotten a lot of blowjobs in his life. What do you want? He’s a hot dude and he’s not picky. There have been many guys - and some girls - who went on their knees for him. Nico is not the best he has ever had, but Taylor doesn’t remember a time when he was itching to come like he is now. He can feel it in the base of his spine, the heat pooling low in his gut and his balls drawing up, ready to shoot. 

“Nico-” he growls and grabs a tuft of hair on Nico’s head a little harder. 

Nico just groans and sucks down harder, while grinding his own hips into the mattress. 

 

It’s what makes Taylor lose it in the end. The thought that Nico wants to choke on his dick so fucking much, that he has to rub himself on the boxspring to relieve some of the pressure in his own cock. Before he knows it, he’s spurting hot come down Nico’s tight throat, Nico moaning indecently loud and swallowing around him. And then, when Taylor is lying back in a nearly comatose state of bliss, Nico pulls off with a couple of tears in the corners of his eyes, sits up and tugs on his own dick just once, before coming hotly all over Taylor’s junk.

“ _ Fuuuck _ ,” Nico rasps and collapses next to him on the bed. 

 

They lie in comfortable silence for a little while, listening to the slight hum of the AC in the corner. 

“Was that your first time?” Taylor eventually asks. 

Nico shoots him an incredulous look and snorts loudly, before dissolving into giggles. 

“Oh my  _ God _ ,” he just says and Taylor grabs his beer can a little defiantly to take a couple of swigs, because he really doesn’t think the question was  _ that _ weird. He’s trying to be a considerate lay here!

“No it wasn’t, _grandpa_!” Nico answers eventually. He climbs over Taylor to get off the bed. “Not even close. But thanks for asking.”

Taylor empties the beer. “Calm down Casanova, just trying to make polite conversation.”

Nico continues grinning and pulls on his shirt. “Well, you really suck at that,” he shoots back and slips into his Adidas slippers. 

 

When the door closes behind him, Taylor stretches across the bed to polish off the almost full beer can Nico left behind. It takes another two cans before he can sleep in this hotel bed that now smells like Nico’s cum.

 

*

 

Taylor expects things to change. Expects Nico to behave like one of the chicks on Glee or High School Musical or something. Because he's a fucking teenager and that's what teenagers _do_. But Nico just treats him like always, jokes around on the ice and shyly shoots the shit with the guys in the locker room. 

“He’s a good kid,” Greeney says to Taylor a couple of days later, when he sees Taylor looking at Nico from his stall. 

“Yup” Taylor answers and takes off his Under Armour to go take a shower.

 

“Wanna hang out?” Nico texts later that afternoon. They’re back in Jersey and have the rest of the day off. Tomorrow is game day, so Taylor won’t go out. He’ll probably just stay at home, watch some bad tv and order some pizza that is definitely not on his meal plan. 

“Why do you have my number?” he texts back.

“Group chat. Don’t be a dick.” Nico’s answer comes back in under a minute. 

“You’re into it,” Taylor writes. And then he sends Nico his address and goes to take a quick shower and make sure that there actually are clean sheets on his bed.

 

*

 

It’s pretty much a textbook booty call. Nico comes over and they end up making out right in the hallway. No “Oh, nice place, wanna show me around?” or “I brought beer, maybe we can watch tv?”. They just get down to it, which is exactly how Taylor likes it. 

 

This time, Taylor gets on his knees in front of Nico and sucks him off with maximum amounts of sloppiness and enthusiasm. If the scratches on Taylor’s shoulders are any indication, Nico seems to like it a lot. He also comes in a pretty short amount of time and makes really fucking sexy whimpering noises when he does. Taylor tries not to gloat. 

 

He knows it’s not a competition, but the casualness with which Nico seems to approach this whole thing unsettles him a bit. The last time he did this with a teammate - and Taylor tries  _ very _ hard not to think of that, like, ever - it had been different. At least in the beginning. With Taylor being the casual one, the “let’s just have a good time” guy. And in the end it hadn’t mattered, because it had crashed in a spectacularly horrible fashion and it had been Taylor who got traded. But he had had control. If only in the beginning. And control is a very nice thing to have. 

 

Point is: Taylor wants the upper hand back. If he ever had it. Being the cynical, no-strings-attached, old and almost wise(ish) fuckbuddy is his thing and damn him if he let’s this cocky little Swiss kid steal his crown. So Taylor uses the extra-seductive bedroom eyes when he looks up at Nico, who is panting and slumping against the wall like Taylor has just sucked his brains out through his dick. 

“That good for you?” Taylor asks and licks the rest of Nico’s cum from his lips. 

“Yup” Nico answers, a little breathless. “You wanna fuck me now?”

 

And there goes his upper hand, Taylor thinks a little weakly. So much for having control.

 

*

 

He has no idea  _ how _ they make it to his bedroom, but Nico drops his clothes as soon as they are there and flops down on Taylor’s bed buck-naked.

“If you finger me open, I think I’ll get hard again,” he says before grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under his hips. Taylor chokes on air a little.

 

He takes off his own clothes and gives his dick a couple of tugs, just to take the edge off. He’s been ridiculously hard since halfway through the blowjob. Holy shit, he’s not 18 like Nico, but he feels like he could shoot his load in the next two seconds. The lube and a couple of condoms are in the nightstand and Taylor grabs one to dump it on the bed. Then he crawls up himself and settles in between Nico’s legs, before leaning down and kissing the breath out of Nico. 

 

Nico’s an ambitious little kid, but Taylor wants the upper hand fuck _dammit_ , and he’s gonna get it - even if it’s the last thing he does. He uses liberal amounts of tongue, then bites and nibbles his way down Nico’s chest, sucking on his nipples lightly as he goes. Red blotches have appeared on Nico’s skin and his breath is coming in short little puffs. Taylor scoots further down, casually licking a stripe down Nico’s quickly hardening cock. He grabs the lube and pours some on his fingers. Then he circles Nico’s hole lightly and finally pushes his middle finger in. Nico moans, throwing his head into the pillow with a thump.

 

Taylor lets his finger slide in and out a couple of times before adding a second.

“God,” Nico moans. “More. Gimme- one more.  _ Please _ , Tay!”

Taylor flinches little. Nobody has called him “Tay” in a long time. Not since- He shakes his head.  _ Nope _ . Not gonna think about that. 

“Come _oooon_ ” Nico moans and wiggles down on Taylor’s fingers. “Fuck me already! Come on! Fuck!”

“Somebody needs to learn how to be patient,” Taylor says in what he hopes is a chastising tone, although it’s probably just as breathless as Nico’s. He adds a third finger and scissors them slightly. Fucking hell, Nico is so tight it’s making Taylor’s head spin.

 

When Taylor has sufficiently stretched him, played with his rim a little and pushed the prostate a couple of times, Nico is completely hard and leaking once more. 

“Fu- Fuck me already,” he moans again and this time Taylor complies. He rolls on the condom with slippery fingers and lines himself up.

“You good?” he asks Nico. Nico just nods shortly, his eyes closed. And so Taylor pushes in, in one slow, fluid motion.

 

They both groan into each other’s mouths. Taylor’s head feels like it is about to float away. Nico is so tight and hot around him, clenching around Taylor’s cock and with his legs coming up behind his back, caging Taylor in. There are indentations in Nico’s lower lip from where he has bitten himself to keep all the sounds inside.

 

“Come on, do it” Nico whispers. 

Taylor leans down to place one filthy, wet, scorching hot kiss on Nico’s mouth before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in.

“Fuck!” Nico shouts and throws his head back, baring his neck. Taylor latches onto it, sucking bruise after bruise into Nico’s soft skin, while pushing into him again and again. 

“You’re so good for me,” Taylor murmurs. “So good, baby. So fucking tight and hot.” Nico just moans in response.

 

“Come for me,” Taylor whispers and grinds into Nico even harder. And then Nico does, shooting his load in between them, covering their bellies and their chests and Taylor realizes he is shouting too and coming with a heaving shudder before going very still. Their ragged breaths are the only thing that fills the stale bedroom air. 

 

*

 

There are certain rules when you hook up with a teammate, Taylor finds. Usually they revolve around ignoring a lot of stuff. Or  _ not _ saying a lot of stuff. Mostly it’s a game of ignoring the obvious and keeping quiet. But Taylor didn’t get traded for nothing. He’s not the wide-eyed, naive little rookie anymore. He’s a grown-up and he has learned the hard way not to make himself vulnerable or dream any sort of pipe dreams about feelings, holding hands and going on romantic dinner dates. That shit is not for him and probably never was anyways.

 

He prefers it like this. Nico and him keep hooking up, usually only at home but sometimes even on the road. Nico will text him and Taylor will answer and then they meet up at Taylor’s place or in a hotel room and fuck each other silly. After a game, it’s usually just trading messy handjobs or sucking each other off. If they have the next day off, Taylor will fuck Nico into an incoherent, panting mess. One time, Nico fingers him and Taylor comes so fast, he surprises even himself. Nico’s smirk is basically unbearable afterwards.

 

Christmas seems to come even faster than usual this year. Taylor’s mom calls him a couple of days before and tells him that they probably won’t make it down to the East coast after all. Taylor didn’t think they would and he’s definitely too old to feel mopey about it, but he still does. Ebs invites him to New York to celebrate with him and his wife, but Taylor bows out at the last second. As much as he loves Mr. and Mrs. Eberle, he doesn’t think Christmas with the newlyweds is something he can stand right now.

 

“Is your family coming for Christmas?” he asks Nico a day before Christmas. They are lying in Taylor’s bed, both still sticky and covered in jizz. Nico’s hair is slightly damp with sweat.

“No” Nico says and there is a definite hint of sadness in his voice. “My grandma is really old and can’t really do a long distance flight anymore. And they can’t just leave her behind.”

Taylor doesn’t know how to respond. This sort of conversation is already not something they usually do. They fuck and they play hockey. That’s all. This is unchartered territory and Taylor has absolutely no interest of getting lost.

 

“You could come here,” he eventually says. 

Nico is already getting up to go to the bathroom and clean up. He turns around in surprise.

“Don’t you have plans?” he asks and pulls up his eyebrows. Taylor shrugs.

“Not unless you count getting high and jerking off,” he replies. Nico snorts.

“Okay, then I’ll come over. That sounds too fucking pathetic even for you.”

Yeah, Taylor has never felt better about himself. 

 

*

 

The day of Christmas Eve passes pretty uneventfully. Taylor might or might not have bought a last minute Christmas tree and some eggnog. He also might or might not have cleaned out his fireplace and stacked some logs in it. Sue him, he likes to be a considerate host and this is Nico’s first Christmas away from home. He’d rather they have a great time together than Nico moping around and crying about not seeing his mommy on Christmas. 

 

Because moping sadsacks are rarely down to fuck and Taylor wants to make sure he’s getting some on Christmas. That reasoning doesn’t exactly explain why he even bought a present for Nico, but whatever. Taylor is still a pro at ignoring shit. Merry Christmas to him!

 

At 7 pm his doorbell rings. Taylor has just ordered some Chinese food and taken a shower. He’s in some fresh clean sweatpants and a dark blue sweater that his favorite aunt gave to him one Christmas. “It brings out your eyes, sweetie,” she had said when she gave it to him. 

Predictably “You look nice,” is the first thing out of Nico’s mouth when Taylor opens the door. He’s smiling and handing Taylor a six pack of German lager. “Merry Christmas!” he says.

“How the hell did you buy beer?” Taylor asks him, a little taken aback. No way Nico wouldn’t get carded anywhere. Hell, Taylor still gets carded sometimes.

“I had some help.”

“Thanks,” Taylor says belatedly and takes the beer into the kitchen to put it in the fridge. 

Nico hangs up his coat and takes off his shoes before following him. His eyes immediately go to the small Christmas tree in the corner of the open living room and the fire crackling in the fireplace. 

 

“You want one of these beers you just brought?” Taylor asks him around the door of his fridge. 

“Yeah,” Nico says, still staring at the tree. “You- uh, it really looks like Christmas in here!” There is a surprised note in his voice.

“Well, it’s Christmas, what do you fucking expect?” Taylor grumbles back when he hands Nico the bottle. Their fingers touch for a moment and Taylor pulls his hand back and reaches for his own. 

“It’s nice,” Nico says and clinks his bottle to Taylor’s before taking a sip. “Wanna make out on the couch?”

Taylor very much does.

 

They end up watching “Home Alone”, because Nico has never actually seen it - which is unacceptable in Taylor’s book - and when their food arrives about twenty minutes into the movie, Taylor gets up to get it and sits back down much closer to Nico than before. Their knees keep bumping all the way through dinner. Taylor tries not to enjoy it too much. 

 

When they have inhaled their food like the constantly ravenous hockey players they are and their fortune cookies are dealt with - “You will find great happiness in your future!” - they finish the movie, slumped against each other, like Taylor’s couch isn’t the size of Texas but instead something very tiny that requires two grown men to essentially spoon each other.

 

“Hey, I got you a gift,” Taylor says as the credits roll. Nico looks up at him in surprise.

“A present? I didn’t g-”

“It’s not a big deal!” Taylor says hastily. “Just saw it at the mall today.” He gets up to retrieve the tiny package from under his tree. 

“I read somewhere that you open your gifts on Christmas Eve in Switzerland, so here.” He thrusts the package at Nico, who looks a little stunned.

“Well- wow. Thanks,” he says before setting down his beer and ripping it open. 

 

It’s a snow globe. A really kitschy one with a tiny display of the Alps - at least Taylor thinks it’s the Alps, his geographic knowledge is a little shaky to be honest. There’s a wooden hut perched at the foot of the mountains and two tiny figurines in what he assumes are traditional Swiss clothes. There’s a goat and some shaggy dog too. Taylor swallows and feels a little panicky all of a sudden. Oh  _ God _ , this was a shit idea. This is a pretty fucking romantic gift, when he thinks about it. Something two  _ lovers _ would exchange, not two fuckbuddies, one of whom is a grumpy, cynical old bastard and the other one a bratty kid with a hyperactive libido. 

 

“Oh wow,” Nico finally says and looks up. He’s smiling but there’s something in his gaze that makes Taylor want to squirm. Makes him want to whip the stupid snow globe into the fire place and then grab Nico and fuck him senseless over the back of the couch. He  _ remembers _ that look. He knows what and who it reminds him off and he-

“Thank you,” Nico says. He’s suddenly right in front of Taylor. And then his hand is going to Taylor’s neck and he’s pulling him in. 

 

The kiss is unmistakably sweet. Nothing like the heated, sloppy, biting kisses they have shared so far. It’s soft and Nico clings on to him, so warm and pliable and Taylor can’t do anything but hug Nico back. Even though it feels like clinging to the torch that burns you.  _ Fuck _ . Fuck this shit. He’s  _ not _ catching feelings, he is not. He won’t get traded again. He’s not that guy.

 

He pushes his tongue into Nico’s mouth, grinds his hips into Nico and hears a satisfying groan in response. 

“You know what I wanna do with you?” he asks Nico in a voice that already sounds like he has sucked some monster dick.

“What?” Nico sighs back. Taylor has snuck his hand in between them and is rubbing the bulge in Nico’s jeans. He leans down and brings his lips right next to Nico’s ear.

“I wanna fuck you in front of that mirror in my hallway.”

Nico mewls in response.

 

*

 

“Get naked and go to the hallway,” were Taylor’s instructions right before he tore away to his bedroom to fetch lube and a condom. He also stumbles out of his own clothes on the way, practically ripping his sweatpants off his legs. When he has scrambled back, he looks at the absolutely indecent picture in front of him. 

 

Nico has followed his orders to a point and is sitting on the edge of Taylor’s wooden side table in front of the mirror. He is gloriously naked, every inch of his body visible in the soft glow of the fancy lamp Taylor’s decorator has bought for this place. His right hand is wrapped loosely around his cock and he strokes himself lightly, almost casually. 

“Holy  _ fuck _ ,” Taylor breathes because he has always been too honest and his poker face is generally worth shit. 

 

With two steps he is right in Nico’s space, his hands on Nico’s hips and his tongue fucking into Nico’s hot mouth. Nico scoots up on the table a little more and wraps his legs around Taylor, keeping him in place. 

“How do you want me?” he asks Taylor and looks up seductively through his eyelashes. He is _definitely_ doing this on purpose. “What a little shit,” Taylor thinks fondly, before pulling Nico off the table, turning him around and bending him over. 

“Like this,” he says and kicks Nico’s legs a little further apart. 

 

Nico places his hands on the table and pushes out his ass, wiggling it a bit and laughing. Taylor slaps one of the plump cheeks and the laugh turns into a moan. 

“Fuck, do- do that again,” Nico groans. Taylor does and Nico’s head drops between his shoulders with a sigh. Taylor sinks to his knees and places a soft kiss right where he has just slapped Nico. The skin feels warm, almost feverish. He kneads the fat cheeks a while, before spreading them wide open and licking a wet stripe right over Nico’s hole. Nico screams.

 

“Keep quiet,” Taylor orders him sternly before going right back to licking and nibbling at Nico’s hole, pulling the sexiest little sounds out of Nico’s mouth as he goes. Taylor reaches for the lube on the table, uncaps it and pours some on his fingers. He starts slow, only pushing his middle finger in, but it’s practically just a minute later when Nico already moans “More!” and so Taylor gives him what he wants.

 

He gets up to three fingers before Nico grabs blindly behind him and catches Taylor’s wrists. 

“I’m good,” he says. “Fuck me.”

Taylor gets up and takes the condom, rips the wrapper open with shaky hands and rolls the condom on. Then he stands right behind Nico, grabs his hips and pushes in. Nico makes a sound almost like a sob and pushes his ass back. 

 

Taylor goes slowly at first, pushing in and out in a relentless rhythm. Then he takes his hands from Nico’s hips and grabs his upper arms instead to pull Nico’s upper body back a little. The angle changes and Nico moans loudly. 

“Fuck. Oh fuck that’s so good, Tay!” he whispers. Taylor slams into him a little harder. He is already so fucking close to losing it, but he needs to make this last. This is too good to be over so soon. 

 

He looks up and watches Nico’s face in the mirror. It’s almost slack with pleasure, his hair sticking up at weird angles and his mouth open, moans and sobs streaming out in a constant torrent. 

“Look at you,” Taylor says reverently. “Fuck Nico, you are so fucking gorgeous!”

Nico just moans a little louder.

Taylor’s hips are almost cramping with the effort it takes him to keep his thrusts slow and measured. He wants to slam into Nico, wants to come, wants his consciousness to explode into swirling light and and color. 

 

“So gorgeous,” he whispers again. “Like you were born for this. Born for taking my cock. Born for being fucked.”

Nico rasps his name. “Fuck, Tay, keep going.” 

Taylor’s hips stutter a little. He is right on the edge, can feel his orgasm looming over him, like a wave that is about to crash. And Nico must know it, because he leans back a little into Taylor.

“Do it,” he whispers. “You can come, it’s okay.” 

And that’s the last thing Taylor hears, before slamming his hips into Nico’s firm ass and coming with Nico’s name on his lips.

 

It’s frankly a miracle he doesn’t just keel over with the force of his orgasm. It goes on forever and Taylor’s bare feet are curling on the hardwood floor. He holds on to Nico’s chest, barely registering that Nico has placed one of his hands on top of Taylor’s and the other one right above Taylor’s ass to hold him close. It takes a long time for him to catch his breath and finally open his eyes.

 

When he meets Nico’s eyes in the mirror, they seem almost black to him. The pupils have dilated so much, they look like dark holes that could swallow up an entire galaxy. He strokes his left hand up Nico’s chest, until he can finger at Nico’s nipple. The bud has stiffened up, a hard little pebble underneath Taylor’s fingertips. He smooths his other hand down Nico’s soft belly until he can curl it around Nico’s dick and give it a light squeeze. Nico whines.

 

“Did you see what you’re doing to me?” he asks Nico in a hushed voice. “Did you see how quickly you made me lose it?” Nico bites his lips and lets his head fall back on Taylor’s shoulder.

“Taylor!” Nico’s voice sounds almost desperate. 

“Shh, I got you,” Taylor replies and swipes his thumb over the head of Nico’s dick, gathering the precum and using it to slick his hand up. It takes just a handful of strokes before Nico’s grip on Taylor’s arm is tightening and then he is coming, shooting thick stripes of cum over the dark wood of the sophisticated side table. 

 

*

 

They end up in Taylor’s bed, because it seems harsh to just push Nico out the door. It’s Christmas after all. Nico falls asleep in an instant, curling himself into Taylor’s side. And Taylor is left lying awake and staring at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck they are doing here. It’s the road to disaster, Taylor can actually see it stretching in front of him. Yet he can’t bring himself to pull over, turn around and get the hell out of there. He scrubs his hand over his face and tries to will himself to sleep.

 

And he does, eventually. The last thought he consciously has is that he only had that one beer tonight, and how weird it is that he never opened a second one. And then he is out like a light. In his dreams he is back in Edmonton and sitting in front of his old locker. Connor is sitting next to him. There’s a buzzing all around them, like a hive of bees is hidden somewhere in the cold locker room. “I never meant to,” Connor says. “I know,” Taylor replies. “I know, rookie.”

 

*

 

It’s almost 2 pm when Nico finally leaves the next day. They had breakfast together. Taylor made pancakes and then Nico sucked him off on the couch, Taylor’s hand gripping his brown hair and Nico’s lips stretched wide around Taylor’s dick. Afterwards, he got Nico off with his hand and Nico came all over Taylor’s sleep shirt. Taylor wants to mind, but he really doesn’t. 

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow for practice,” Nico says when they say goodbye at the door. “Thank you. For everything.” And then he leans in and kisses Taylor chastely on the mouth, making something that feels suspiciously like butterflies rumble around in Taylor’s belly. Taylor watches him cross the street from his window. He needs to end this. He  _ really _ does.

 

Falling into old habits is a bit like putting on your favorite sweatpants, he thinks a little later when he sits on his couch. He’s taken one of the Vicodin pills from his secret stash and washed it down with a couple of beers. His phone is turned off, lying face down on the coffee table. He’s just gonna stop. Stop with all of it. No more fucking the rookie in secret. No more making out and getting each other off and stealing sneaky glances in the locker room. No more buying sappy presents and spilling his emotions all over the place. Just -  _ no more _ . 

 

*

 

He wakes up late with an outrageous hangover and drags himself into the shower, drives by a McDonalds on the way to practice and gets on the bike to warm up. The others are trickling in, waving cheerful hellos and asking him about his Christmas. Taylor tries to ignore them. But he definitely notices when Nico gets there. The air suddenly seems to crackle with something, and Nico shoots him a confused look before he gets on the treadmill furthest away from him. Maybe Taylor should turn his phone on at some point. 

 

They get back on the ice and it feels good. Their passes connect, their drills all work out beautifully and coach doesn’t have a word of criticism when they sit down to watch some tape. 

“Alright boys, get home, get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow morning for the roadie,” he says after an hour. Taylor tries to be the first one out the door.

 

“Taylor,” Nico calls after him when Taylor has almost made it all the way across the parking lot and to the safety of his car. He sighs and slows down. Nico is the only one to call him by his actual name. Everybody else just calls him Hallsy. Well, Connor hadn’t. He had also called him Taylor. Or Tay. But Taylor is not thinking about that. Not ever. 

 

“What is it, kiddo?” he says as he turns around. Nico stops before him, a little out of breath.

“Is something wrong?” he asks. His crazy eyebrows are knitted together in concern. 

“No?” Taylor replies while he clicks his car open and turns away to stash his bag in his trunk.

 

“Okay,” Nico says and draws the word out like a question. “Then why haven’t you answered any of my texts?”

Taylor shuts the trunk and looks up. “Sorry, turned my phone off yesterday.”

Nico now frowns at him. “Did I do anything? You’re being weird!”

Taylor shrugs. “Nah, just tired. Better take off now. See you tomorrow, eh?” 

He makes to get into his car, but-

“Want me to come over later?” Nico asks a little hesitantly. 

Taylor sighs. So Nico is  _ not _ gonna make this easy for either one of them.

“Not tonight, kiddo. See you tomorrow on the plane.”

When he drives off, he can see Nico in his back mirror, still standing in the parking lot and looking after Taylor’s headlights like a puppy being left at a gas station. Taylor thinks about that bible story with the woman who looked back and got turned into a pillar of salt or something. He can relate.

 

*

 

Nico doesn’t sit next to him the next day on the plane. He is back with the Euro kids, but when Taylor sneaks a glance at him, Nico looks pale and his floppy hair seems unkempt where it’s peeking out from underneath his toque. Taylor wills himself to look away and takes his usual two seats at the front of the plane. He puts on his headphones and forces himself successfully into a quick nap. When they land in Nashville, he is the first off the plane and into the bus. 

 

They lose spectacularly against the Preds. 5-0 and only like eight shots on goal throughout the entire game. Taylor feels like he could punch a wall. He doesn’t though. Instead he talks to the media, gets in the shower and then they all drive back to the hotel, the silence in the bus almost deafening. What a fucking shitshow of a night. 

 

The knock on his hotel room door a little later isn’t surprising. Taylor has pretty much anticipated it. That’s why he took another Vicodin and chugged a beer. No need to be completely conscious for the undoubtedly horrible conversation ahead of him. 

“We need to talk,” Nico huffs when Taylor has opened the door. He pushes inside and Taylor lets the door fall shut behind him, already regretting every life choice that made him end up here. 

 

“I don’t know what I did wrong and why you’re avoiding me all of a sudden, but I am sorry,” Nico says. 

“Uh- what?” Taylor has not anticipated the conversation to start this way.

“I’m  _ sorry _ .” Nico repeats. “I clearly did something wrong, so whatever it was, I am sorry.” He looks at Taylor very intently. Taylor feels very nauseous all of a sudden. 

“Excuse me,” is all he can press out before he dashes into the bathroom, slams the door shut behind him and throws up violently into the toilet bowl. 

 

It takes a while for his stomach to calm down, but eventually he can flush everything down and rinse his mouth with water from the tap. When he looks at himself in the mirror he sees that his eyes are bloodshot and his skin looks yellow and sweaty. Another win for Taylor Hall, ladies and gentleman. He  _ really _ knows how to do it.

 

Nico sits on his bed when he comes out, his back turned. There’s not a chance in hell he didn’t hear Taylor hurl, but Taylor chooses not to address it. He rounds the bed and comes to stand before Nico. Nico looks up, Taylor’s little viol with Vicodin in his hands.

“What’s this?” he asks. His face is completely blank. 

“Vicodin,” Taylor says. “I take them for my back.” 

Nico’s brows are drawn together. “Your back? What’s wrong with it?”

“Back pain,” Taylor mumbles and tries to snatch the pill bottle back. Nico holds it out of reach. 

“You never said anything about your back hurting before,” he says. 

And that’s about all that Taylor can take. He’s had a shit day and a shit night and now his casual hook up is apparently dead set on lecturing him about the dangers of prescription drugs. Taylor has about  _ had _ it.

 

“For fuck’s sake,” he yells a little louder than planned. “What’s it to you? You’re not my fucking boyfriend!” He grabs Nico’s hand violently and snatches the pills from his grasp. Nico looks at him in horror. 

“What do you want?” Taylor snarls, because he has painted himself into this corner and there is no way out but this. 

“I- I actually wanted to talk to you, but-” Nico starts a little shaky. 

“But  _ what _ ?” Taylor says.

“I don’t know if I wanna talk to you when you’re like this, to be honest.”

“What the fuck is  _ that _ supposed to mean?” Taylor snaps. Nico just crosses his arms and looks at him. 

 

Taylor tosses the pills on his nightstand and goes to get a Gatorade from the mini fridge. He doesn’t offer one to Nico. He wants him to  _ leave _ . 

“Why are you ignoring me?” Nico eventually asks. Taylor just turns to the window and sips his Gatorade. It’s dark outside, the city lights blinking stupidly.

“Taylor!” Nico says a little more vehemently. 

“Listen,” Taylor starts, but then he has no idea how to continue, so he closes his mouth again.

“I thought we had a pretty good time together,” Nico goes on. “I thought we-”

“I’m not your boyfriend,” Taylor blurts out. Good Lord, he is  _ so _ fucking bad at this! 

 

“I was aware of that, thanks.” Nico answers drily. “Is that what this is about? Are you still scared that the dumb rookie might fall in love with you, bec-”

“I never said that!” Taylor interjects and finally turns around. Nico is still sitting on the bed, looking very confused and a little pissed off. 

“Then what is your fucking problem?” Nico asks. 

“Look,” Taylor says and rakes a hand through his hair. “I’ve done this with a teammate before and it didn’t-”

“Didn’t end well,” Nico finishes the sentence for him. “Yeah, you said that.”

Taylor looks down and swallows. 

“You ever wondered why I got traded?” he asks in a raw voice. Fuck, he  _ really _ didn’t want to talk about this shit with Nico of all people. 

 

Nico looks even more confused. 

“Because you broke some teammate’s heart? Is that what you’re saying?”

Taylor looks away. God, he really doesn’t want to do this. Fuck his life. 

“It was Connor McDavid.”

Nico’s mouth falls open in surprise. 

“You and McDavid?”

“Yes.” Taylor swallows. “And I didn’t break his heart, he broke mine.” 

He puts the Gatorade on the window sill. His hands are shaking badly. 

“We hooked up and then I wanted more and he didn’t, so we stopped and I- I just couldn’t play for shit anymore and-” He stops talking again, his stomach churning. 

 

The silence in the room stretches out for what feels like at least a solid minute. Taylor wants to die. Or at least to be very alone right now and able to do something truly pathetic, like weep into his pillows and get blackout drunk. 

“Taylor,” Nico says eventually in that voice you use with a caged animal. “Tay, you didn’t get traded because of th-”

“What do _you_ know?” Taylor spits. “You weren’t fucking there! _I_ was!” He is shaking now. With anger and nerves and everything mixed up in a piping hot ball of chaos inside of him.

“I told Connor how I felt, and he freaked out and basically told me to go fuck off. A week later he had a girlfriend and when the time came to talk about the team, he made fucking sure  _ I _ wasn’t on it much longer.” 

 

There are tears in his eyes now. Because he apparently is just the most pathetic person on the entire planet. He digs his palms into his eye sockets and wishes for the fiftieth time that Nico would just leave. 

“What has that to do with us though?” Nico asks in a very tentative voice. 

Taylor lets his hands drop down and stares at Nico. 

“You really want me to fucking spell it out for you?” he shouts. 

Nico crosses his arms again and looks at him in a challenging way. 

“Yeah, I think I do,” he answers. Taylor is going to murder him.  _ Hard _ .

 

Instead he just turns back to the window and picks up his Gatorade again. If he ignores Nico for long enough, he’ll just fuck off and then Taylor can wallow in peace. And for once, his plan seems to work, because he can hear Nico get up from the bed. But instead of leaving, Nico comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Taylor, his chin resting on Taylor’s shoulder. 

“You know,” Nico whispers in his ear. “If this is you, panicking that you like me, I got news for you. I like you too. Like a  _ lot _ . Even though you are an unbearable dick. And kind of a mess. But I still like you. Always have. So  _ maybe _ you should figure shit out and when you do - come find me!”

 

And with that he gives Taylor a brief kiss on the shoulder and walks away. Taylor can hear the click of the closing door, before he sinks to the floor right where he is standing and starts to cry.

 

*

They have New Year’s Eve off, so Taylor packs an overnight bag and drives to Brooklyn to stay in Ebs’ guestroom. The lady of the house has gone to visit some friends in Canada and so it’s just him and Ebs, like in the olden days. They have a couple of beers while lazily watching the ball drop on Times Square. 

“Should we kiss?” Ebs asks at midnight and Taylor shoves his socked foot right in Ebs’ laughing face. 

 

They go up to the roof and smoke the joint Taylor brought. The air is crisp and cold and smelling vaguely of sulphur from the big fireworks display earlier. It’s wafting over the East River and making Taylor shiver with something he can’t really name. He also doesn’t want to. 

“So, what’s up with you?” Ebs asks after a while. He’s always been able to read Taylor when nobody else could. 

“I’m an idiot,” Taylor says. Ebs just snorts.

“No shit, Sherlock!” he says. 

 

With a sigh Ebs asks “What did you do?” and so Taylor tells him. About Connor - even though Ebs knew vaguely about it, although not the entire story - and Nico, about the Vicodin and the many, many beers. About his sleepless nights, when it feels like there’s a monster scratching on the inside of his skin, waiting to burst forth. He talks for almost an hour, and Ebs doesn’t stop him, doesn’t interrupt him, just listens with a thoughtful look on his face. 

 

Taylor’s almost hoarse when he finally stops talking. His cheeks are a little damp, but whether from the night air or from tears, he can’t really say. He is  _ so _ very tired. 

“Hallsy, my man,” Ebs finally says with a tiny cough. “you are one gigantic mess.” And then he leads Taylor back down into the apartment, pushes him down into the couch and lies there with him, holding him tight until Taylor is asleep. 

 

*

 

“You need to talk it out with him,” Ebs tells him the next morning at breakfast. He has made Taylor eggs and bacon and even hash browns, like a fucking adult. Taylor remembers the days when they didn’t have anything but Kraft Dinner and Cheerios at their place. And now Ebs owns a coffee maker and a set of frying pans. 

 

“I know,” Taylor replies. He chews his eggs. 

“No,” Ebs says and grabs Taylor’s hand to make him look up. “You  _ really _ need to talk to him. This isn’t Edmonton, Hallsy. And Nico isn’t Connor McFuckHim!” His jaw sets in a very funny way when he says Connor’s name. Ah, Ebsy. Good old Ebsy. Always there to defend Taylor’s honor. 

“I love you,” Taylor says with a little laugh. 

“I know,” Ebs says and smiles. “Now eat your fucking bacon and then get out of my fucking house.”

 

He texts Nico when he gets in his car and then sets his phone on silent for the entirety of the drive. When Taylor gets back home, he takes a shower and flushes his Vicodin pills down the toilet. And then he finally pulls himself together and looks at his phone. 

“I’ll be there around 4. xx” reads the text from Nico. Taylor glances at the time. He has half an hour left to decide what to say. 

 

Half an hour is a very long time apparently. Also it’s too fucking short. It’s unnerving and Taylor curses the inventor of time measurement soundly, as he putters around in his apartment. Also the inventor of hook ups. Maybe he should move to a country where they just arrange marriages, he thinks at some point. Although, being a dude that likes cock is already hard enough in the NHL, so he probably doesn’t need to introduce a super conservative dating culture into his life on top of that. He almost has a heart attack when the stupid doorbell finally rings.

 

Nico looks a little freaked out when Taylor open the door for him. 

“Hey,” he says and Taylor just nods in answer. He doesn’t trust his own voice right now. 

He holds the door open for Nico, closes it behind him and then walks to his living room very fast, leaving it to Nico to follow him. Or not. 

 

But he does. Still looking freaked out, but with his jaw set and the stubborn look in his eye. The one he gets during training sessions, when a drill isn’t really working out. It’s an annoying look, but Taylor is so fucking happy to see it right now. Because it means that Nico probably won’t fuck off before Taylor has said his piece. At least he hopes that’s what it means. 

 

“You’re not Connor McDavid,” is the first stupid thing out of his mouth. He mentally facepalms. Way to start a conversation.

Nico just pulls up one of his insane eyebrows and grins a little wryly. 

“Thanks,” he says. “Always nice when somebody reminds you that you’re not hockey jesus.” Taylor wants this day to be over so fucking bad. 

“I flushed the pills down the toilet,” is the next stupid thing he says and this time Nico just nods and crosses his arms.

“Good,” he answers.

 

Taylor takes a deep breath. 

“I like you.” He swallows. “I really like you, although I have _no_ idea how that happened.” His eyes are darting around the room. Anything to look at rather than Nico’s face.  _ Anything at all _ would be baller right about now. 

“And I know that I am a mess, but I’d love to take you on a date some time. If- If you’re interested, that is.” He breathes out.  _ There _ . He said it. He’s still breathing, the walls are still standing and if all goes to shit and he gets traded again, he’ll make sure it’s somewhere warm this time. Florida maybe. 

 

“Was that so fucking hard?” Nico says from the couch and Taylor looks at him in sudden outrage. Nico is smiling a little. 

“Yes, it fucking was!” Taylor says furiously. “Because the last time I said it-”

“Dude!” Nico says and gets up. “Dude, calm down.” He looks a little concerned. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say.”

Taylor starts breathing again.

“It was,” he confirms. Nico smiles back at him.

“It’s just- I’ve had a pretty obvious crush on you, ever since I got here. Maybe even before.” Nico says and he steps a little closer to where Taylor is standing. 

“I was fine with us just being fuckbuddies at first, but then- not anymore. And then you gave me that snow globe and I’ve had that thing on my bedside table ever since. So I’m pretty sure I like you too. And it all just seems so- so obvious to me.”

 

Taylor doesn’t reply. So far he has not cried in front of Nico and he’d like to keep it that way. But he’s close. _Fuck,_ he is so close to losing it completely. 

Nico edges still closer. “I know what happened to you was really shitty,” he continues. “And I can’t promise you that this will work out. Maybe you’ll get tired of me or I’ll get tired of you.”

He’s now so close that Taylor can smell his cologne. 

“But I can promise you,” and now Nico is right in Taylor’s space and looking up at him, “that whatever happens, we’ll find a way to still play together and see each other in the locker room.” Nico’s right hand comes up to rest over Taylor’s heart which is currently racing like a fucking techno beat. 

 

“So, I’m saying yes to that date,” Nico whispers. “In case that wasn’t clear.” And then he pulls Taylor down and Taylor goes and they are kissing and Taylor puts his arms around him and Nico whines and everything,  _ everything _ inside Taylor finally goes blissfully, mercifully quiet. 

 

*

 

When they are lying in Taylor’s bed much, much later - Taylor is still covered in Nico’s jizz, because Nico had hastily opened himself up and then ridden Taylor with abandon - Nico puts his head on Taylor’s chest. Taylor reaches up and rakes his fingers through the floppy mess. He breathes in deeply. 

“Can you promise me something?” Nico mumbles already sounding half-asleep. 

“Don’t know,” Taylor replies quietly. “Shoot.”

Nico props himself up on his elbow and looks at him. 

“You get to be grumpy and angry,” he says. “I know that’s kinda your thing.” 

Taylor grins a bit. The kid has his number alright. This does  _ not _ bode well for him at all.

“But if anything is really pissing you off,” Nico continues, “or worries you, or makes you sad - will you come talk to me about it?” 

 

Taylor breathes out slowly. “I can’t promise you that,” he eventually replies. Nico’s face falls a bit. 

“But I  _ can _ promise you that I will try,” Taylor finishes. “I really will.”

They look at each other for a bit, honestly and searching. Then Nico nods. 

“I can work with that,” he says and puts his head back on Taylor’s chest. 

 

It rests right above Taylor’s heart. 

 

Taylor Hall is not a stupid man. But he is a man in love, and that might just be the same thing.

 

***

 

Come yell hockey at me over at [tumblr](https://jiggyknowswhatsup.tumblr.com). 


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